


Bad Diagnosis

by ElfGrove



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Found Family, Gen, Lion Paladin Bonding, Mortality, Team as Family, Terminal Illnesses, friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9447668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfGrove/pseuds/ElfGrove
Summary: Pidge has been having bad headaches for nearly a week straight, so she decides to see if the infirmary has some sort of Altean Advil. The actual news is not so great.





	1. Chapter 1

She rolled over in the bed, pressing her forehead against the mattress harder, hoping the pressure might provide some relief.

She waited.

Two long breaths.

Ten.

It didn't help.

Everything pounded. The lights, low set as they were, made it worse. Laying here wasn't accomplishing anything. She couldn't sleep through this.

She groaned, pushing herself up from the mattress with an effort, and tapping the nearby tablet to get the current time. She kept her eyes squeezed shut for a long moment, gathering her nerves to handle the light of the screen, of the room.

**_03:23h_ **

A little after 3 am. 

Okay. Even Shiro would be asleep in his quarters at this hour. She could do this.

Her head gave a defiant lance of pain, arguing to the contrary, and she leaned into the wall, pressing the heel of her hand to her temple. It didn't really help, but the effort should count for something. The moment passed, lapsing back into the constant pounding, and she forced herself to stand up.

She dragged on her what was becoming an increasingly threadbare sweater as she passed into the night-dimmed hallway, thankfully no brighter than her room, and began the slow trek to the med bay.

This headache had been persisting on and off for almost a full spicolian movement now. It was time to do a quick scan and see if the supplies had some sort of Advil equivalent that maybe wouldn't have terrible side effects on a human body.

At this point, she'd take a few annoying side effects.

She couldn't take another quintant of her head doing this without any relief.

* * *

Three scans, a small bottle of pills stuffed into her pocket, and a wipe of the med bay logs later, she was back in her room, curled under a blanket and trying not to panic.

“ _Try_ ” being the operative word.

It wasn't going well.

Upshot, the scans had showed her exactly what she needed to medicate with for the headaches and the Altean medicine had helped immensely.

On the downside, the scan had told her what was wrong. The diagnosis wasn't good. _It was extremely bad._ And there was no way in the three laws of thermodynamics she was telling any of her fellow Paladins. They might tell her to stop piloting. Separate her from Green and the search for her family... 

That wasn't going to happen.

She'd rather die.

She was going to die.

...

OH MARIE SKLODOWSKA CURIE. She was going to die out here. Not a maybe. Not a distinct possibility. She was without a doubt going to die. And it probably wasn't going to be very flashy and heroic near the end.

She was at least going to die on her own terms then.

* * *

Green radiated concern through their bond, and she patted the console as reassuringly as she could.

Her hands were still shaking.

“It’s not your fault, Girl.”

There was an uncertain timber to the ancient space cat’s answering rumble.

“It’s not,” She bit off the words stubbornly. “This is on me. My genetics. Runs in the family every couple of generations.”

She was hiding in the cockpit. When she’d realized that the other Paladins would be getting up for breakfast soon, she’d scrambled down to the Lion hangar and into Green. She was still processing the news. She needed to collect herself before she saw the others. She needed Green.

The Lion growled a light challenge, and she brought up a screen to see what had her partner’s attention.

Shiro stood down in the bay, one hand on his hip, looking up at Green calmly, with one eyebrow quirked, “Good Morning to you too. Is Pidge with you?”

Green turned her head away from Shiro, pointedly snubbing him, and Pidge felt the comforting weight of the Lion’s protective mental presence wrap around her. She could feel it. The Lion, her Lion, was willing to let her hide in here for as long as she needed. Her hands still shook with nerves as she reached for the console, but she managed to grit her teeth, take a deep breath, and sound something close to normal.

“I’m here Shiro. Did you need something?”

“0700 hours. Breakfast. Come down and eat.”

“No thanks.”

“What?”

Okay. That had not been smooth. She’d spent over half a year at Galaxy Garrison, convincing people, convincing Iverson who had met her before, that she was a boy named Pidge Gunderson. She could convince Shiro, who couldn’t even see her right now, that she was skipping breakfast to fidget with her Lion yet again.

“I said no thanks. Green and I are working on something. I’m not hungry.”

Not even a lie.

“Pidge, you need to eat.”

“I’ll get something later. Promise.”

“Pidge...”

“I’m busy. You can complain if I don’t eat lunch.”

She could hear his sigh, and she curled up into the pilot’s chair, pulling her knees to her chest, afraid he would push the issue, insist on coming up to see what she was doing. She wasn’t collected enough to put on a normal face around the others yet, and she couldn’t let them know. This secret was between Green and her.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Shiro finally answered patiently. “Have fun with Green.”

Green made a friendlier short rumble, and they both watched Shiro leave the hangar. Green’s presence curling more protectively around her.

She buried her head on her knees, and let out a long shuddering breath, “I’m scared Green.”

Green started purring, the engines vibrating all around her and the cockpit warming by a few degrees.

“I’m scared, but I don’t want to stop either. Fighting alongside you. The team. Searching for Dad and Matt. Seeing new worlds and new technology. Helping people. Saving the universe. I don’t want to give any of this up. But knowing I’m dying is still scary. Brain tumors are scary.”

The rumbling purr changed and she couldn’t help but feel a little comforted. She raised her head and reached both hands out to touch what parts of the Lion she could easily reach.

“Not being with you is scarier though.”

She chuckled at the inquisitive press of the Lion’s mind.

“Yeah, so it’s going to be a while before we see any big effects. Let me tell you what to expect...”

* * *

By the time she’d finished talking through what was going to happen with Green, she was starting to feel more like herself. More put together. The headaches were under control. Green had her back. She could do this.

She felt ready to act like everything was normal around the rest of Team Voltron.

She joined the team for lunch, discussing the latest repairs the Castle needed and the next planet they were likely to visit to find parts.

She thought Shiro was looking at her strangely a couple of times, but dismissed it.

* * *

 

She took in a deep shuddering breath, shifting the controls to bring Green coasting into formation with the other Lions as they approached the Castle. It hadn’t been a hard battle, but it had been longer than usual, and she was feeling worn out. Probably a little too much.

“Can you bring us in, Green?”

The answering rumble was concerned but affirmative.

“I just feel... off. Probably need to adjust my dose or something.” She leant forward to pat the console reassuringly. “I’ll sneak down to the med bay toni--"

Her body shuddered involuntarily, her vision blurred, and a wave of vertigo hit, sending her pitching forward against the console.

She felt Green register alarm, but couldn’t get herself to respond. She clung to the console, her vision swimming in a blur of green lights and silver metal. The smell of cinnamon seemed to permeate everything.

When she came back to herself, she felt Green growling all around her, and the comm in her helmet bringing Shiro and Allura’s voices into sudden focus.

Allura’s voice was still calm, reasonable, “Green Lion, what is wrong?”

Shiro’s wasn’t, he sounded on the edge of being panicked, “If Pidge is hurt, you need to let us in to help her.”

Okay. She must have had a seizure. That was expected. Bound to happen eventually. She hadn’t completely lost consciousness, didn’t seem to have had any significant, prolonged muscle spasms, so probably a complex partial one. She’d need to run a few scans to be sure. Later tonight. After she’d mitigated the immediate issue. She and Green had talked about this. Green was doing exactly what she’d asked, not let the others see her like this.

“I’m fine, Shiro.”

“Pidge?! What’s happening?”

“Nothing!” She wiped sweat from her neck, and moved slowly, making sure she hadn’t hurt herself when she’d fallen out of the pilot’s chair. “I was adjusting some new code on Green. Must have accidentally blocked the comms. Sorry about that.”

“Can you please come out now,” Allura sounded relieved. “We were starting to become concerned.”

“Yeah. Sure. On my way.” She pulled the helmet off, patting Green as she started towards the ramp, down, feeling Green move to give her access even as she did. She felt unsteady on her feet, but damned if she was going to show it. “Thanks Girl. You did good.”

Shiro met her at the bottom of the ramp, his eyes darting back and forth, checking her for injuries. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! It wasn’t like there was even a close call out there. Come on.”

Shiro’s expression tightened, “Green isn’t usually this antisocial, she’s definitely not usually one to growl at Allura and I.”

“We were doing some delicate adjustments; she just didn’t want you messing with her.”

“She’s been more closed off for a while now. You’re sure something isn’t going on?”

“Nothing. You’re overthinking things,” She patted Shiro’s shoulder lightly and stepped past. “I’m going to hit the showers.”

No one stopped her, and she was grateful for it as she slumped against the shower wall, letting the recycled water wash away the sweat and prodding at a bruise she’d earned in her fall. Well, first seizure survived more or less smoothly. Live and learn.

* * *

It was 0300 hours when she snuck back to the med bay. The new scans didn’t tell her anything she hadn’t expected. The tumor had grown. The programs calculated a new dosage for her, and she downloaded the scans to her personal tablet before deleting them from the med bay’s system.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance

Once the initial frustration of realizing they had no way to hook up the game console they'd purchased at the space mall had passed, she and Hunk had sat down and worked out both the needed power and output adapters to make it function with Altean technology. One of the many castle lounges had been turned into a game room.

That was where she was now.

Not with Green. Not working on one of her many side projects. Not combing Galra logs for signs of Dad or Matt. Exhaustion was hitting her hard today and she couldn't bring herself to focus on anything that required exacting attention. A long-defunct video game was comparatively easy. Playing it in co-op mode with Lance, doubly so.

Lance was a relief in a lot of ways she rarely openly gave him credit for.

Sure, he was a little careless and narcissistic, but he was also enthusiastic and infectively cheerful. He was also one of the first to drop everything to help or defend his friends. Regardless of whether or not doing so benefited him in any way. He was more selfless than he appeared. And homesick. They all were, of course, but he'd been letting more and more of it slip. He would go off on rambling stories about his big family and Varadero Beach. She liked it when he talked about home, or Blue, or anything other than going off about hot alien girls or how amazing a pilot he was. He was comforting and kind when he wasn't putting on a big show.

The video game was a great excuse. It was nostalgic and prompted him to tell a lot of stories which both gave her something to do that wasn't focusing on her predicament and wasn't so mentally taxing it might set something off. 

She hoped. 

It hadn't yet anyways.

“Y’know, this is pretty great, Pidge."

She directed her avatar to smash another goblin, "What is?"

"You and me! Chilling out!" Lance stretched, then went back to hammering away at buttons. "It was like pulling teeth trying to get you to hang out with me and Hunk back at the Garrison."

"Hunk and I," she corrected casually.

"Anyways! The last three days have been nice!" He nudged her side playfully, "Thanks!"

"You're welcome," She paused the game. Blinked. "Three days?"

"Yeah!" Lance looked down at her, his mouth spreading into a wide grin, "You've been having so much fun you didn't even notice we've been hanging out so much?"

"No," She retorted defensively, then took a deep breath and tried again. "Yeah. I guess."

His grin widened, and he ruffled her hair. "It's cool. Eat. Sleep. Video games. It's nice to just kick back and just relax sometimes. Good for us. I think you've been sleeping more because of it too. That's gotta be a good thing."

"I guess." She turned back to the game, unpausing it without warning. "Let's finish this dungeon."

Lance didn't miss a beat, cheering loudly and taking up his controller again.

Three days. She hadn't exactly lost time, but she hadn't really realized she'd spent three days being completely unproductive either. Lance might not think it was strange, but someone would. Shiro already thought something was off with how she and Green were behaving. Probably Allura too. Hunk and Coran would definitely notice her lack of technical work around the castle sooner rather than later. Keith... Keith might not question it. When was the last time she'd seen him? They sometimes chatted about theories and rumors while she worked on stuff. He'd notice not finding her in any of her usual spots eventually, but probably not soon. She hadn't been to the hangar to be with Green for at least two days.

She moved a block on the screen, unlocking the next section of dungeon.

She'd been exhausted and worn out despite relaxing for _THREE DAYS_. Despite getting more sleep, Lance was probably right there too, she was still tired. Time for another brain scan. Another meds adjustment. She might be deleting the scan records, but eventually someone might notice the changing supplies in the med bay. She needed to restock the cabinets from one of the cargo rooms lower in the ship. She could not get caught in this. She didn't want to think how the team would react if they found out she'd known and hidden this. Them finding out at all would be bad enough on its own.

The screen flashed as Lance completed the next puzzle, putting them into a boss battle early.

She grit her teeth and refocused, working with Lance to tag team the boss's weaknesses, throwing potions, yelling at Lance when he wasted a spell while the digital monster's defenses were up. Her head started to ache, and she wasn't sure if it was the tumor or just normal frustration. Had they ever just been frustration headaches? Or were they early warning signs she'd been ignoring for years? She'd never know.

Her hand started shaking. It wouldn't stop. She couldn't make it stop.

She shot a quick look at Lance. His eyes were glued to the screen.

Back to her hand. Still shaking, and the spasms were spreading up her arm.

She ground her teeth trying to will it to stop.

To be normal.

It wouldn't.

Muscle spasms were a symptom of the tumor.

Myoclonic seizures.

She couldn't let Team Voltron know what was wrong with her.

She dropped the controller and lurched to her feet, "I... I gotta go!"

She moved before Lance could respond, rushing out of the room, her non-twitching hand holding the other arm tight against her side.

She ran flat out down the halls, taking several turns before she found a section of Castle where she was sure wouldn't be located easily. She ducked into a small room, and closed the door, dropping into the farthest back corner, breathing hard and watching her arm spasm and the other hand join it, spreading until it reached her elbow. She held her twitching arms between raised knees, entire body curling in on itself as if she could make it stop if only she applied enough pressure to the offending limbs.

It wasn't logical.

She knew it wasn't logical.

She was making sure she didn't hurt herself by letting her arms flail around. That was all.

That was reasonable.

That was lo...

She choked out a sob and rode out the seizure, grateful that at least she wasn't drowning in not-really-there cinnamon scent this time. She didn't like cinnamon that much.

She had no idea how much time passed, sitting in a dark room somewhere in the bowels of the castle, waiting for her body to stop betraying her.

When it stopped, she went to Green.

She went over general diagnostics, then crawled under a console panel and began making tiny, nitpicking adjustments to the cloaking device. Green's presence flooded around her, warm and attempting to comfort. There was nothing either of them could do to fix her, but at least she could make improvements in Green's head.

One of them would make it out of this.

* * *

She joined the team for dinner in the mess hall.

Lance's head shot up from a discussion with Hunk and he smirked at her, "There you are! I beat that boss -- all by myself, thank you! Where'd you go?"

"I had to go handle something," She looked sideways in annoyance. She should have been thinking of how to explain her sudden exit to Lance. She hadn't been.

Lance just stared at her for a long moment, first raising one eyebrow, then the other. When he finally spoke, she cringed, still trying to think of a reasonable explanation, "Ohhhhh! Lady problems!"

Her jaw dropped.

"Lance," Shiro's voice was the warning tone he got when Lance was pushing a boundary too far.

"No no no!" Lance waved his hands unconcerned, "I gotcha! I have sisters. Perfectly understandable. You got everything you need? Need help finding any--"

"LANCE!" He stopped mid-sentence when she snapped at him, "I've got it covered. Thank you. Can we _PLEASE_ not talk about this?"

"I's a natural bodily..."

" _Lance._ "

"Okay," He draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards the table to sit between him and Shiro. "You just know you can count on me if you need anything. Anything at all."

She dropped her head to the table on her folded arms groaning, " _OH QUIZNAK._ "

The rest of the table chuckled, and she heard Hunk start passing out the dinner plates.

Face hidden from view behind her arms, she smiled though. Lance was trying in his own way to be helpful, and he was. He was covering for her odd behavior today without even meaning to. He was a good friend, if not overenthusiastically foolish at times.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk & Keith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Note:** a) This is not an entirely accurate depiction of how brain tumors affect real people. It is based largely on skimming online stuff and stories from family members who’ve been there. Also, blame inaccuracies on how the Altean medicine is affecting things. b) Actions of characters are meant to be in-character and as flawed as the characters are, not recommended behavior for real people to follow.

"Hey Pidge, can you stick around and help me with the food goo machine after breakfast?"

She glanced up at Hunk from where she'd been blearily trying to muddle through some code on her tablet. Last night had been long. A seizure in a supply closet followed by a couple of hours curled up inside Green before she'd finally managed to grab a couple of hours sleep in the wee hours of the morning.

Days like this, she really missed coffee.

"Sure thing."

She stretched when breakfast was over, rolling up her sleeves and helping Hunk gather the dishes while the other members of Team Voltron left to go about their own tasks.

For a while, they worked quietly together, washing dishes.

"So, what have you been working on lately?"

She almost dropped the plate she was holding, "Trying to figure out how to adapt the cloaking from the training maze for the other lions. Why?"

"Just curious I guess," He took the plate from her, putting it away.

"You don't normally ask."

Hunk shrugged, wiping his hands of before passing her the towel, "I've been wondering."

She copied the motion, laying the towel down on the counter when she was done, "Yeah. I figured.  You usually don't though. You know I'll tell you about it when I get it working."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the kitchen as if he could find a distraction rather than answer her.

"The food goo machine doesn't need work, does it?"

"Err... No."

"Hunk!"

"Listen, I'm worried about you!" He started pacing, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, but not raising his voice, "You've been quieter than usual about whatever you've been working on in your free time lately. You usually come to _me_ if you're having trouble working something out, but you haven't. And I can tell it's eating up all of your focus, because you've been eating less. **_Don't look at me like that._** It's **_a lot_** less. You're losing weight, and you really don't have any extra to lose."

She'd known her appetite had been shrinking as she'd been needing to increase the doses, but she hadn't thought anyone would notice. She hadn't realized she'd been losing weight.

"Someone else is going to notice and say something eventually." Hunk sighed, stopping to run a hand through his hair and glance at her before looking away again, "I figured I'd try to talk to you about it privately, help you with whatever you're working on so you wouldn't be so keyed up that you're not eating."

She shook her head slowly, "It's nothing you can help with."

"It's not really cloaking stuff for the Lions, is it?"

She chuckled, "I am working on that, actually."

"It's not my food, is it? I can make something else for you if that's the problem!"

She started to say no, but he was right. Eating had been harder lately. She couldn't keep not eating and pilot. Food was necessary to survival and all. Eventually, someone else would make an issue of it too, and they'd be less willing to let her off the hook without a good answer.

"Could you maybe make mine with less spices or strong smells?" She cringed to even ask, "You're a great cook, but I think all the alien food is just doing a number on my stomach."

He nodded enthusiastically, "I can handle that!" 

He sounded so cheered by the ability to do something, she had to smile, "Thanks, Hunk."

"Do you want me to whip you up something now? I can make something now!"

"No," She laughed. "I'm good for now. I appreciate it."

"Anytime!"

"Okay, I'm going to go get back to work with Green."

He nodded, already turning to the cabinets and storage bins, probably planning how to alter his food to make something blander for her.

It would probably actually help too.

* * *

Green banked a hard left to avoid a blast from the Galra battle cruiser.

Red flew in beside them, Keith's voice coming in over the coms, "Flank left, and I'll go right. If we use the jaw blades along the inset just above that turret line—"

She nodded as she saw what he was talking about it, “On it!”

Green shook as they ripped through the hull of the giant ship, and a satisfying crescendo of explosions followed in her wake. At the other end of the battleship, she shared a cheer of triumph with Keith. While the ship started to collapse in catastrophic failure, they swept out through the space, clearing smaller enemy fighters with claws and blasts from the Lions’ mouths.

Nearby, the other three Paladins had taken out the larger battle cruiser and were similarly sweeping the area of stray fighters. Allura sent out a message that she and Coran working with the native Bajorans had managed to successfully stop the bomb planted in the tectonic plates of the planet below them.

She snickered as Allura repeated the name of the planet, unable to keep a straight face at the idea that Bajor was a real planet. Bajorans a real alien race. It was straight out of Star Trek. Not that the real Bajorans looked anything like their fictional TV counterparts.

She muted her comm to avoid getting chastised by Shiro or Allura again for her bad sense of humor.

“I heard that,” Keith’s voice came over a one-to-one channel between their Lions.

She chuckled again, “I can’t help it. _BAJORANS!_ I used to watch old Star Trek episodes with my Mom.”

They swept through another cluster of Galran fighters, working in tandem to clear the battlefield as they chatted.

“Hey, I didn’t say I blamed you,” This time Keith laughed. “I was kind of disappointed when it turned out they looked like regular Grey aliens straight out of the old Roswell conspiracy theories.”

“Right?!” She felt her grin widen even as she wiped sweat away from her neck and pulled at the fabric of her suit trying to get some relief in the stuffy cockpit. “Not so much as a single earring or wrinkled nose! I can’t believe Star Trek lied to me!”

“You and I both,” Keith answered warmly. “Just don’t mention it to Allura or Shiro, I don’t think they’d appreciate the joke.”

“Of course not!”

“Still, I can’t believe some writer on Earth managed to get the names right for an old sci-fi show. The rebel group here even calls themselves the Maquis!”

“You noticed that too?”

“Absolutely!”

They continued chatting for a while, discussing favorite Star Trek races while hunting down the last straggling sentry-manned Galra fighters. Hers was Vulcans, of course. She was more surprised to find out Keith’s was Betazoids. Somehow, she’d expected Klingons.

When they got back to the Lion hangar at the Castleship, Shiro complimented them on how well they’d worked as a pair today, the sword and shield of Voltron. They’d traded satisfied grins and a fist bump, not telling anyone they’d been bonding over an old sci-fi series and making bad jokes for a large chunk of the battle.

* * *

She hadn’t expected Keith to track her down later to continue their chat. It wasn’t that he never did. In fact, it wasn’t strange at all for them to discuss Earth conspiracy theories and urban legends while she was working on a project, but she usually had privacy for several vargas after a battle. Everyone went off to relax, rest, and unwind in their own way.

_Usually._

Under normal circumstances she would have found him perching on some nearby bit of furniture chatting with her while she worked her way through some bit of alien technology comforting. Today wasn’t a normal day.

Not _old_ normal at least.

She’d managed to get a shower and get changed into a set of casual Altean clothes (her poor sweater from Earth was on its last legs) before the tremors had set in today. The last thing she’d expected was for Keith to come uncertainly into the darkened and unused lounge she’d hidden in just as the smell of cinnamon started to overwhelm her senses.

“Pidge,” His smiling face had fallen into that lost puppy look he sometimes wore as his searching eyes zeroed in on her in the dully-lit room. “What are you doing down here?”

She shook her head, trying to hide the way her arms were already starting to spasm, beginning at the hands, pinning them between her knees where she sat on the floor behind a couch.

“Nothing,” There was a slowness to her words, and she could feel her mind starting to swim. This was going to be one of the bad ones.

Not now. _NOT. **NOW.**_

Keith’s eyes narrowed and he dropped a tablet he’d been carrying as he rushed to kneel next to her. “What’s wrong? What can I do? I’ll go get—"

“No!” She managed to choke out a few words, voice desperate and fierce, even as the room started to tilt dangerously. “Don’t tell!”

She felt Keith’s hands on her shoulders as an oddly distant sensation just as the world around her went black.

* * *

She came back to herself quickly, head spinning, body sore, every muscle in revolt. She pushed herself halfway up and leaned away from something soft and warm as her body shuddered violently and she vomited what little she’d eaten this morning onto the metal floor.

She was breathing hard, on hands and knees by the time her stomach finished emptying. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, not ready to face the consequences of having been caught yet. An arm carefully wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her backwards until she was leaning against something – the couch back?

She cracked her eyes open slowly to find she was still in the dimly lit lounge, Keith sat next to her, purple eyes wide and watchful, his arm still carefully holding her in a sitting position.

“Keith...?”

“Welcome back,” He spoke softly, eyebrows furrowed and uncertain. “What do you need?”

“Water. Should be—"

“On the table,” He finished. “I see them. Can you sit up on your own?”

She nodded, and he moved to retrieve a couple of the water packs she’d left in the room for exactly this reason. He passed one to her as he returned to his seat on the floor next to her, holding the other on his far side, watching as she took a few long drinks before retrieving her pills from a pocket and taking a dose of the Altean medicine.

He waited.

“You didn’t tell anyone.” She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement.

“You asked me not to.” He shifted to face her better, ignoring the vomit on the floor, but eyes darting from the pill bottle to her face. “Something’s wrong.”

She swallowed a couple of times, feeling disgusting and humiliated, and not enough on top of her game to be sure she could convince him to keep her secret. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“What is it?”

“Promise me.”

“Pidge, I can’t...”

“I need you to.” She took a bet, knowing how deep his bond with Red ran, “If anyone finds out, they’ll make me stop piloting Green.”

His eyes widened, and she watched as his jaw clench in sympathy.

“I cannot lose her.”

“Okay.” He took in and released a long, slow breath, “But you have to tell me what’s going on.”

She nodded, feeling her shoulders unknot slightly in relief, “I have a brain tumor. I’m taking meds for it, but I still have seizures occasionally.” A lot more than occasionally, but Keith didn’t need to know that. “I’m handling it.”

“I’m guessing the healing pods don’t help.”

“It’s not an injury or a foreign entity. It’s a genetic abnormality. It’s me. The pods wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

He sighed and bit his bottom lip, “I’m guessing surgery is—"

“Not operable. Even if we had a surgeon on the team, which we don’t.”

“Is it,” He paused, looking her up and down as if putting several puzzle pieces together at once. “It’s killing you.”

“Brain tumors kind of tend to do that,” She shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but felt hot tears forming at the corners of her eyes anyways. “It’s how they work. I’m mitigating.”

He nodded, small swift bobs of his head without looking at her, like he was trying to make himself accept the news.

They were silent for a long few moments, sitting together on the cold floor of an abandoned section of the castle.

“How long?” His voice was almost childlike in the tone of the question, “How long do you have?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why would they make you stop piloting if they knew?”

She locked eyes with him, “You already know that answer, Keith. You’re smart.”

He stared back for a long moment before slowly closing his eyes and bringing his hand up to cover the lower half of his face. His expression was pained. “The Lion Paladin bond. Its accelerating the tumor growth.”

He didn’t open his eyes to see her nod of confirmation.


	4. Chapter 4

She was grateful for Keith's silence about her situation. 

The search for Matt. Fighting alongside Green and the others. Those were the only things that kept her moving. The only things that got her out of bed in the morning. She needed her position as a Paladin of Voltron.

She was surprised by his presence though.

They'd been friends for a while now. Tech was not Keith's thing. Especially not the kind of inventive off-the-cuff things that Hunk and she had to manage to work with advanced alien systems, but he liked to sit with her while she worked. They'd formed a friendship on the basis of shared interests and quiet vargas just keeping each other company.

Still, he hadn't spent **_this_** much time with her before.

It was impossible not to notice.

She was rarely alone anymore. He was obviously cutting back on his hours in the training room to just sit with her while she worked on something. He started doing exercises in whatever room she'd chosen to work in just to stay close. He was watching her. Waiting for the next seizure.

It was sweet.

It was also annoying.

She sighed loudly, setting down the tablet on a table and turning to look at him, "I am not going to drop dead just because you took your eyes off me for a dobosh."

Keith flushed, ears turning red, and cleared his throat a couple of times before responding petulantly, "I know that."

She raised an accusatory eyebrow at him.

"I do."

"Then why the death watch?"

He abandoned the pretense of cleaning his knife, and joined her on the couch, shoulders slumping, eyes on his hands. "I lived in a bunch of foster homes before the joining the Garrison."

She let the annoyed expression bleed off her face to look at him in surprise. He rarely talked about his pre-Garrison past in a personal context, and never in detail.

"One of them." He cleared his throat uneasily, "One of the ones that treated me better, the woman in charge had some sort of illness. I was young, so I don't really remember what it was, but I remember it was terminal. I remember the lengths she went to hide it from Social Services so she could keep taking care of us a little longer. She knew how bad some of the other homes were."

"I'm sorry Keith, I--"

He shook his head, "Don't."

She leaned back into the couch, biting her lip and feeling terrible that he had to go through this. She hadn't wanted anyone to know, and now she hated that she had burdened Keith specifically.

"I don't think it was a brain tumor, but she had seizures too. I remember how to help deal with them, and I **_know_** how dangerous it can be for you to be alone when you're having one." He finally met her eyes, "I want to be there to help. _Just in case._ "

"Oh." It was her turn to look away, "Thanks."

 

* * *

 

Keith was there for the next seizure.

And the next one.

And the one after that.

He sat with her through them. Silent but supportive.

He even didn't say anything about one where she blacked out and woke up with him covered in vomit and a scratch from her jerking arms on his hand.

Not one complaint.

He was just there. Making sure she didn't hurt herself, or choke, or only Tesla knew what else that might go wrong while her brain and body betrayed her.

Lance complained about him being a boring gargoyle sitting in the corner during their video game marathon sessions without participating, but still Keith stayed close whenever he could.

She wasn't sure what she'd done to earn this kind of friendship, but she appreciated it.

 

* * *

 

They were at the end of a recon mission in the Lions when she felt the signs of a seizure coming on.

She took a deep inhale of breath, trying to control herself. Trying to will it away, even knowing she couldn't stop it from happening. Keith was in Red. They were in space, between planets. He couldn't do anything for her. He already worried enough. Did more than enough.

"Pidge?" His voice came in clearly over the comms. "Are you there?"

She forced out a chuckle, "Where else would I be?"

"Red seems to think Green's upset. Did you have a seizure?"

"Not yet." She took her hands off the controls, watching with grim resignation as the spasms began to set in. "Show's just kicking off."

"I'm coming over."

"You can't! We're in space!"

"Wearing space suits. Seal your helmet and tell Green to let me in."

"Fine."

She had slid into the floor by the time Keith made his way into Green's cockpit. He reached her quickly, taking off both of their helmets, and sitting in the floor next to her, his hand tangling in her sweaty, too-long hair so that he could wrap his long fingers around her neck and the back of her head, simultaneously monitoring her breathing and pulse while being ready to cushion her head if she started convulsing in a way that might cause her to hurt herself.

It was becoming an eerily practiced contact.

She leaned towards him, resting her shoulder against his chest while they both watched the shaking spread over her limbs. His other hand moved around her torso, not touching, but ready to hold her in place if needed.

As her seizures went, it was a light one. Over in a few doboshes, and never getting worse than muscle spasms and the irritating smell of cinnamon overpowering everything.

She let out a long sigh as the smell faded away, "I think it's done."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She didn't move, "Red's probably worried sick."

"Red understands." He pulled the arm around her torso away, but the hand at her neck moved up to cup her cheek applying a gentle pressure, turning her to face him, "I think we need to tell the others, Pidge."

She pulled out of his grasp, scowling, "You promised."

"I'm not going to say anything without your permission," He let his hand drop to his lap, but kept watching her calmly. "But it's getting more frequent. What if next time is in the middle of a battle?"

She heard the betrayed feeling make it into her voice, "You **_need me_** to form Voltron."

"Yes. I'm not saying you have to stop piloting. I'm on your side there, but I think it would be better if the others knew, so we can all back you up if something happens during a tense situation. Like you said, we need you to form Voltron." He looked around the interior of the cockpit before looking back to her, his eyes worried, "Green needs you."

She shoved herself roughly up and back into the pilot's chair, crossing her arms defensively, "I'll think about it."

"Okay."

He sat there for a while longer, just looking up at her.

She had to break the silence, and her voice sounded tired even to her own ears when she did, "What?"

"I'm scared." He dropped his head into his hand, rubbing back and forth over his closed eyes, "I'm scared of losing you, and I know if I'm scared, you must be too."

"I'm not going anywhere yet," She answered softly.

"I know." He pulled his hand away and reached for his helmet, pulling it on roughly before reaching for hers, "But it's only a yet, and I don't _exactly_ have a lot of friends to lose."

"I didn't **_exactly_** choose this."

He stood up, handing her helmet over, looking apologetic, "I know that too. Just like I know you'd rather I didn't know about this at all, but I'm still scared, Pidge. I can't help it."

"Sorry," The word came out more petulant than she really meant it.

His hand found her cheek again and he leaned down to press the forehead of his helmet against her unguarded one, "I'm sorry too. You're dealing with enough already." He paused there for a long moment before straightening up and closing his visor in preparation for the trip back to Red. "Put your helmet on."

 

* * *

 

They were in the middle of a skirmish with a smaller Galra battleship when a Robeast suddenly warped into the field.

Everyone stopped to stare at it, and then the smaller Galran fighters began to peel off, returning to their hangars in the battleship. The Lions scattered, and took positions around the creature, waiting to see what it would do without making themselves a single target by clumping together.

It fired towards Shiro and Black first, a short, dark blast of energy crackling with blue light around the edges that the pair dodged easily enough. The shot hit the Galran battleship, carving out a hole in it without so much as leaving any debris. It just absorbed and destroyed a section of ship and people.

Lance yelped, “ _WHAT WAS THAT?!_ ”

“Something we don’t want to get hit with,” Keith answered reflexively.

“Evasive maneuvers,” Shiro ordered. “Let’s see if we can put a dent in it.”

The Lions flew circles around the beast, hitting it with their various weapons to little affect. It was slow to fire the big gun again, but it was well armored in the meantime, making their task difficult.

After the second firing of the big gun, Hunk chimed in, “That can’t be a projectile black hole inducer, right?!”

“No way,” She shot back over the team comms. “The science is impossible. You’d never get it to stop once you got it to start. More likely some sort of implosion-based rail weapon. That would probably explain why it’s so slow. Rail guns don’t scale well.”

“Well it can’t be plasma based. You wouldn’t get that kind of implosion effect! What else would you use in space?”

“Does how it works make a difference to what it does?” Keith sounded tired and frustrated. They had been at this for a while before the Robeast showed up.

“I’m with Keith guys,” Lance chimed in. “It acts like little black holes, so it’s a black hole gun.”

She started to complain peevishly, “That’s not accurate...”

“You said rail guns don’t scale well,” Shiro interrupted. “Is there a way we can break the mechanism? If we can take out that gun, this guy isn’t a huge threat.”

“Hunk spent more time studying rail guns than I did.”

“If we can knock the armatures out of alignment or stop them from moving, it should disable the entire thing. Rail guns are finicky.”

“Pidge,” Shiro’s voice remained calm under pressure, even as they all continued to dance around the dangerous behemoth. “See if you can gum up the works with your vine cannon.”

“On it!”

She and Green swept out and then back in, moving faster as their minds aligned and focused together, manifesting the cannon that was Green’s specialty. They centered in front of the weapon and fired once, darting away before she could see the results. As they came back around, vines sprouted from the base of one the armatures, constricting satisfyingly around the works.

The Robeast roared in anger.

She smirked.

She and Green swept back in, prepping to fire the canon into the other armature. They drew close and the entire cockpit seemed to heat up as their minds burned as one, and then her hands were slipping off the controls, limp and unresponsive, her vision blurred into a mass of colors, and the smell of cinnamon was overpowering, pressing in around her like thick blanket. Green shuddered around her as their link faltered.

_No!_

“ _Pidge!_ ” She heard Keith’s scream over the comm as everything went black, “ ** _PIDGE!!!_** ”

 

* * *

 

Red was suddenly screaming in his brain, Green’s bond with Pidge was dangerously weak. They spun around to look, and he saw the Green Lion slow to a stop in front of the Robeast’s giant rail gun, eyes going dark, the vine cannon’s second volley unfired.

His heart stopped.

The vine covered armature shuddered, and started to pull back, despite Pidge’s efforts. It was about to fire again.

He screamed, sending Red into a desperate dive to shove Pidge and Green to safety, “ _Pidge! **PIDGE!!!**_ ”


	5. Chapter 5

Pidge came to slowly, still in the pilot seat of her Lion. Green’s cockpit was dim but emergency lights added a sanguine hue to the entire room. She turned slowly in the chair, still feeling groggy and disoriented at the sound of something coming down the short hall towards her.

All around, Green’s voice was a low unhappy rumble that vibrated everything. Their connection was like an unshielded wire in her mind, electric and sparking. It didn’t hurt, but it was raw in a way that felt unfamiliar.

Keith came through the doorway, breathing hard, his helmet already discarded somewhere. His eyes widened to see her move, and he practically threw himself across the remaining space to reach her.

“Pidge?!” His armor clanged noisily against the consoles and chair, and she turned away from him, the noise scraping against every nerve at once.

She felt it when her stomach finally caught up with the rest of her, and she retched over the opposite side of the chair, not actually throwing up, but coughing and gagging with the threat of it. It was almost worse that she couldn’t.

Keith’s hand patted her back cautiously, and he took her helmet off and away when she stopped heaving long enough to permit it.

He waited until she straightened back up in the chair, breaths shallow and everything beaded with sweat.

“How are you feeling?”

“What happened?”

He grimaced at her counter.

“We both know I’m feeling like three day old quiznak,” She tried to sit up straighter, a motion Keith discouraged with a hand on her shoulder. “The last thing I remember is going in for that rail gun Robeast. What happened?”

“We beat it. Everyone’s safe.” Keith took a slow breath in and out, “We’re all back in the Castleship.”

She swallowed, “They know.”

“I didn’t tell them anything, but they know something’s wrong.” He glanced back towards the empty doorway. “Green wasn’t letting anyone else inside to check on you but me.”

“Explains the growling,” She shifted uncomfortably. “How much trouble are you in?”

“Judging by the scowl on Shiro’s face?” He offered a weak smile, “Loads and loads. They all knew I was the first to realize something had gone wrong, and none of them are happy that I wouldn’t explain anything. The only reason I got any kind of reprieve is because Green won’t let anyone else near you right now.”

“She had to open up to let you in.”

“And Shiro is probably back to banging angrily at her feet.” He chuckled, “You’ve never seen him so upset. It’s worse that Black’s not helping him. I think all the Lions knew.”

“That makes sense,” She managed to sit up straighter now. “It’s hard enough to keep secrets between us, they’ve been a set for more than 10,000 years.”

Keith nodded, “Are you feeling up to coming down?”

“Without a plan?”

“You think there’s a plan outside coming clean here?”

She huffed, looking out of Green’s eyes at the interior of the Castleship, “Banged my head probably wouldn’t work, huh?”

“Not likely.” He perched on the edge of the chair, following her gaze. “Even if it did, they’d want to do a brain scan after you being out for so long. The jig would be up pretty fast.”

“How long was I out?”

“You were unresponsive for most of the battle, and Black dragged Green back into the hangar. That was at least half a varga ago.”

She grimaced. This was going to be bad. “Okay. I guess it’s time to face the firing squad.”

“They’re more worried than anything.”

“I know. It’s almost worse.” She stood up, and he stayed close as she did. “I’m a Paladin, not a damsel in distress.”

“We’re all family,” Keith admonished gently.

“Remind me of that after the yelling,” She responded sarcastically.

They walked down the ramp of Green’s mouth together, out to the waiting Team Voltron. Everyone looked different shades of angry or worried, but Shiro was the first to move once they cleared Green’s maw.

It probably looked comical with their size difference to an outside observer, but he dropped to one knee in front of her, arms stretched out as if he was going to drag her into a hug, but stopping just short of touching, fingers twitching as he looked her up and down for injury.

His voice was husky when he spoke, gray eyes locking with her golden ones, “What happened?”

“Minor complication,” She shrugged, trying and failing to smile. “I’m fine now.”

“Katie.” His voice intoned the next few words darkly, “That was not minor.”

“We should get her to the healing pods,” Allura stepped in close, the rest of the Paladins on her heels.

“We’re going to the med bay,” Shiro agreed. “But this has been going on for a while, hasn’t it? You already know what’s wrong.”

“What do you mean, it’s been going on for a while?” Lance looked hurt, peering at her alongside Hunk from behind Shiro.

“Green’s been increasingly stand offish for months.” Shiro’s eyes narrowed dangerously, “It has something to do with whatever happened out there today, right?”

She looked away, feeling guilty, and Keith’s hand came to rest on her shoulder.

“You,” Lance’s voice was accusatory, one of his long fingers pointing at Keith. “You knew! That’s why you’ve been hanging around so much!”

Hunk’s voice sounded hurt, “I thought you were just trying to be more friendly!”

“It’s not his fault,” Pidge cut in defensively. “I made him promise to keep quiet.”

“Keep quiet about what,” Allura said coldly, her anger evident.

“Can we go sit down somewhere?” Keith sounded tired, “This isn’t productive.”

“I like the idea of sitting down,” Hunk chimed in.

“Med bay,” Shiro ordered, standing up.

“I don’t need to go to the med—"

Shiro turned, picking her up bodily, and cutting her protest off, “Med bay. Now.”

She started to argue, but stopped at the look on Shiro’s face, “Keith, can you get the tablet from the desk in my quarters? Meet us there?”

Keith nodded, and jetted off on his assignment.

If she had to explain this, she was at least going to have all the data available.

 

* * *

 

“You need to stop piloting,” Shiro pushed away from his seat next to her in the med bay, his eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed.

“We don’t have another pilot,” Allura said logically. “And the damage is clearly already done.”

“The damage?” Lance took as step forward as if to threaten the woman he normally fawned over, “This is Pidge’s life, not a booster rocket!”

“I am aware of that,” She spoke coolly. “I am also aware nothing we have can reverse the growth of the tumor.”

“But it’s killing her,” Hunk’s voice was low and uncertain. “It’s pretty obvious the tumor’s growth is being accelerated, and the most likely explanation is the bond with her Lion.”

Allura nodded, “Most likely, but Pidge wants to continue to pilot.”

Lance seemed infuriated, “She has a brain tumor--!”

“Which doesn’t render my brain non-functional,” Pidge snapped. “I know the risks. I won’t give up Green, and you need me to form Voltron! The universe is more important than one life!”

That silenced Hunk and Lance.

Keith stayed beside her, silent but constant, his arms folded over his chest. He still held her tablet from where she’d handed it back to him after restoring the scan files to the med bay’s computers. They were damning all laid out next to each other, up on a big display.

“There was always the chance being Paladins would end your lives,” Coran spoke softly, dismissing the brain scans showing the tumor progression. “We all knew the risks.”

“Being killed in battle is a potential risk,” Shiro’s voice was cold and angry. “This is different. The bond is literally killing her. That’s not a risk, it’s a death sentence.”

“It’s my choice!” Pidge slid off the table, glaring at Shiro’s back, fists clenched.

Shiro whirled back on her, “And what am I supposed to tell Matt or Commander Holt when we find them? Katie came out here searching for you and I let her die, even though I knew piloting was going to kill her?!”

“You’re not my father or my brother! I get to choose what I do with my life!”

“ _I CAN’T LOSE YOU TOO!_ ”

Pidge froze, Shiro’s face inches from hers.

He let out a long breath, his face falling from anger to despair, “I can’t lose you too.”

“Shiro...”

“I don’t know how to protect you from this. I promised myself I’d protect you.”

“You can’t.” She spoke gently, hugging him even though she hadn’t in months. Fingers dug through the peach fuzz like hair at the back of his head and her other hand memorized the feel of his shoulder blade as she pulled him down to her. “This was always a risk in my family. It’s not Green’s fault. There’s nothing anyone could have done about it. I just drew bad odds in the genetic pool.”

He hugged her back tightly, lifting her off the floor as he did. “I can’t accept that.”

“You have to.”

Keith joined them, then Lance, then Hunk.

They sunk to the floor together.

They turned into a pile of Paladins in the middle of the need bay floor, hugging each other with sobs no one tried to blame anyone else for. Allura and Coran left them alone at some point, just letting them be together and accept that they were slowly losing one of their number.


	6. Chapter 6

The next two months were different.

She was almost never alone.

She was never alone for a seizure outside of her Lion.

She swore they must have set up a schedule between them, to make sure someone was always nearby and trained themselves on how to handle seizures when they occurred. She didn’t ask. She wasn’t sure if confirmation of there being an actual schedule would feel more like kindness or like an admission that she was a burden on the team now. It was easier to let the feeling drift in uncertainty while the existence of a Watch Over Pidge schedule was theory instead of fact.

Keith remained much the same, spending more time with her, being supportive in his way. He seemed less stressed now that the secret was out. He still was open with her about his concerns. Still held her during the seizures he was present for to make sure she didn’t hurt herself. She was certain he was relieved to be able to confide his worries with someone other than the source of it.

Lance was surprisingly quiet and hands off about it. She would come out the other side of a seizure to find him ready with a water pouch and something to wipe away the sweat. He kept questions to a minimum, and would immediately resume whatever they’d been doing when the seizure had started. It made her feel almost normal.

Hunk was what she expected. He hovered. He asked questions until she got irritated and snapped at him. It clearly came from a place of love, so she was quick to apologize and steer him back to engineering discussions. He still asked her for details of what the seizures were like from her end, determined that he might be able to find a way to make it easier on her even if he couldn’t stop them. When he learned about the overpowering smell of cinnamon associated with so many of her attacks, he put together a small mulling bag full of herbs that made for an opposite scent from the cinnamon. It couldn’t do anything to stop the sensory hallucination of the scent during a seizure, but it helped her nose reset faster when she was coming down from one. It helped.

Shiro was touchier than she had ever expected him to be. He’d clearly learned from Keith how to handle her seizures, because he would hold her in the same way, giant hands cradling her head while monitoring her pulse and ready to hold her away from harm. He never asked questions. He would hand her water and wait until she voiced what she needed. More than once, she would open her eyes to see dried tear tracks and red rimmed eyes marking his face. He never spoke about it, and neither did she. Once, she come back to his body practically curled around hers, still crying into her hair. She brushed the tears away, but they never spoke about it.

There wasn’t much to say.

She would not stop piloting. There was nothing that even Altean tech could do for her mutinous brain. All that mattered was whatever she could do with the time she had left.

 

* * *

 

 

They were doing recon on a small planet with a Galran work camp. She was one of the pilots going in due to Green’s cloaking ability. Yellow came with due to her armor and raw strength. It doubled as a test run for her new add-ons, giving the other four Lions cloaking devices like Green’s. If it could be made to work for Yellow, one of the two largest and densest Lions, it could work for any of them. Shiro rode along in Green’s cockpit.

Her seizures had been getting consistently worse and more frequent. She didn’t have much more time to get it right.

On the surface, they split up to search the jungle for back entrances to the Galran mines, or for signs of the rebel population rumored to be operating from hiding on this side of the mountain range.

It had been vargas of searching in the uncomfortable heat and biting bugs with no results when the first warning hints of cinnamon started to edge in.

She grit her teeth as she stumbled and caught herself noisily against the trunk of a ridiculously large tree. She didn’t want to do this out in the open. In enemy territory.

**_As if she had a choice._ **

“Shiro?” She let herself slump against the tree, slowly sliding down to sit on a root almost as large as one of Green’s claws.

“Pidge? Find something?”

“Just jungle. I,” She swallowed heavily against a lump in her throat. “I think I need you here.”

“Headed towards your position now.” His voice radiated concern, “Are you okay?”

“One of those minor complications,” She admitted shakily. “It’s too hot. I’m taking off my helmet.”

“Pidge, keep talking to me—"

“Just get here.”

She pulled her helmet off, setting it between her feet before letting herself start wiping at the sweat. The cinnamon smell was getting stronger. She was going to be too out of it to do anything in a dobosh. Hopefully, Shiro would get here soon.

There was the sound of cracking branches and she turned towards it, hand already starting to shake as she tried to grip her Bayard. The greens of the jungle were starting to go fuzzy, and she narrowed her eyes at the form not more than twenty yards away and getting closer.

It was something alive. Bipedal. Too small to be either Shiro or Hunk. That was **_not_** good.

It got closer and she cursed her brain for being this broken. That wasn’t fair. _Neurological treason._ She’d given up on actually finding him herself.

Her new hallucination looked like Matt.

Matt in weird alien clothes, dirty, carrying a blaster, but still Matt.

Which was _impossible_.

“Dear brain,” She grumbled, probably too loudly, but she was already found out if the hallucination was a real person. “You quiznaking suck.”

“Katie...?”

The world faded to black, just as she heard Shiro’s voice coming close, “ ** _Pidge?!_** ”

Right. Just taking off her helmet like that had probably scared the Planck’s Constant out of him. Whoops.

 

* * *

 

 

She woke in an unfamiliar place. She was on a soft bed. Not her bunk in the Castleship, but a ridiculously soft bed that she was actually sinking into the mattress of. In front of her face was a wooden wall. Wood. She was probably still on the alien planet.

There was no way to turn to look at the rest of the room without alerting anyone who might be watching her that she was conscious again. Low probability of surprising anyone if she was a captive.

**_Great._ **

First the tumor, then hallucinating her brother, now leaving her in a crappy position for assessing her current circumstances. Her brain was officially fired.

She took a deep breath in and out, preparing herself to turn and take stock of her situation.

She heard the scraping of wood against wood, as if someone had stood up from a chair too quickly.

Hah. At least I surprised someone.

The voice that followed the noise was shaky, uncertain... and speaking English, “Are you awake?”

She groaned. Apparently, her brain wasn’t done being terrible for the day. The speaker sounded like Matt.

“Please say something,” She heard the speaker step closer to the bed. “Katie?”

She turned, looking up to see her hallucination was still determined to look like Matt. Maybe it was some sort of alien camouflage or psychic trick? Neurological chemicals like pheromones to make you trust them? Her brain couldn’t be this thoroughly broken. He wore clothing nearly identical to the clothes they’d seen worn by the rebels that had freed him in the Galran prison video.

But it couldn’t be that easy, could it?

Not after all this time. Just stumbling across him? Statistically unlikely.

“My brain finally short circuited,” she growled irritably, sitting up in the bed, and finally seeing Shiro sitting on the end of the bed.

“Hey,” He spoke softly, well aware that sometimes her senses were often still a little over-sensitive after a seizure.

“You found me.”

“Always.” Shiro stood up, moving closer to brush her bangs back and press his forehead to hers, “We’ve got progress on the secondary mission when you’re feeling up to going downstairs.”

“Secondary mission?” Matt practically squawked. “She’s in no condition to—"

“I think you and Matt need to talk.”

She looked warily from Shiro to the impossible figure of her brother. He was thinner, his cheeks hollow, and thin scars she’d never seen before marred his complexion. She hadn’t hallucinated on this level before, and she wouldn’t have imagined Matt looking like this.

_Maybe._

“It’s really you?”

“Of course it’s really me!” He looked at Shiro in alarm, “How bad is this brain tumor you were telling me about?!”

“Not _THAT_ bad,” She drug a hand through her hair. “Give me a tick, I’m a little shocked here.”

“And stop yelling,” Shiro chastised.

“You don’t get to say that,” Matt growled, shaking a finger at him. “My sister shouldn’t be in the middle of an intergalactic war. She should be working on her doctorate, not piloting some mythical alien super weapon!”

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Katie responded venomously. “I’m supposed to be here. Voltron needs me.”

“You’re a kid!”

“I’m not even two years younger than you!”

“Shiro...!”

“Don’t drag him into this! I’m out here because of my own choices! Not because of anything he did! If anything, we dragged him back out here!”

“Katie...”

“I’ve been looking for you for two years,” She felt the exhaustion creeping in, and wiped an angry tear away. “Can’t you just give me a hug and say you’re happy to see me?”

Matt blinked at that, then immediately sank onto the bed dragging her into a tight hug, his fingers tangling in her hair and digging into her scalp, “Of course. I just... He told me about...”

“I caught that.” She hugged back, her voice muffled against her brother’s shoulder. **_Her brother._** He was alive. And safe. “Looks like I took after Uncle Butch after all. It sucks, but I’m dealing.”

“Yeah,” He lifted his head as the door on a nearby wall swung shut. “Based on how Shiro’s been acting since you dropped in the jungle, I don’t think you’re dealing all **_that_** well.”

She looked up to see Shiro had left the room, “I was trying not to worry them.”

He gave a laugh that was half sob, “Since when has that ever worked out for you?”

“Smart ass.”

“Learned from the best.”

She surged forward, hugging him again, “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“You too.”

 

* * *

 

 

They came downstairs eventually, to find Shiro and Hunk sitting at a long table with several aliens dressed similarly to Matt.

They all looked up as the two Holts came down.

“Welcome Green Paladin,” One of the aliens rose, surprisingly tall. “We understand you are in need of aid.”

She looked at Hunk and Shiro in confusion, then back to the alien, “We came to help you.”

Shiro stood, “Pidge, this is Kalon, the leader of the Krelshi people. Allura and Coran said that if any of them were left, they might know of a way to heal you.”

“What?”

Matt’s arm around her shoulder gripped her tighter, “Can you?”

“There is a slim possibility,” The alien hedged. “Our healing ceremony has rarely been performed on outsiders. It may not do anything.”

“But it might help,” Hunk sounded the most hopeful he had in a month. “Right?”

“We owe Voltron and the Altean Princess a great debt from long ago. We are willing to try.”

 

* * *

 

 

She woke again in the same soft bed. Matt’s room in the Krelshi rebellion.

She blinked up at the ceiling, trying to feel if her brain was any different.

She knew there really wasn’t a way to tell without a fresh scan in the Castleship med bay.

The healing ceremony was a blur of lights and chanting, and a strange smell similar to Hunk’s little herb packet.

She didn’t want to sit up and find her brain telling her it had failed. She wanted to lay here and revel in the maybe for as long as she could.

“Hey,” She didn’t even look over to confirm who was behind the soft greeting.

“Hey Shiro.”

“How are you feeling?”

He never asked. He always waited for her to tell him what she needed.

She wasn’t ready to leave the bubble of hope.

“Like I just want to lay here for a little bit and not think about it.”

“Okay.” The bed shifted, and she felt him scoot into the space between her and the wall.

“Shiro?”

“I just want to not think about it for a little bit too.”

“Sounds good.” She turned, letting herself rest her head on his outstretched arm and appreciate the warmth of not being alone for a little while. Being part of something bigger than herself. Something made of hope. She burrowed in until she could rest her head against his chest.

She was surprised when Keith came in. She didn’t know he’d come down planet side. He didn’t say a word, just climbed on top of the covers on the opposite side of Shiro, boxing her in and making her feel even safer.

Hunk came in next, and although the bed was full, he found a space too. She chuckled when he started to make noises asking if it was okay, and instead patted his hand, the easiest part of him to reach from her position at the center of a growing Paladin pile.

Lance was the last to join, funny since had been the first of them to bond with his Lion.

“Aww,” She could hear the big grin and pose with one hip jutted out without even looking at him. “Looks so warm and cuddly, like a pile of kittens.”

“Lions,” She corrected.

“Lions, of course.” He stepped closer, “Room for me?”

“Wouldn’t be complete without you,” She smiled, still half muffled against Shiro’s chest. “Get in here, Blue.”

He practically jumped onto them, climbing to Shiro’s other side, but once he nestled in, she found herself slowly drifting off to sleep.

Voltron was the hope of the entire universe.

The Paladins of Voltron were the hope that kept her going, no matter what the answer was. For as long as she could stand up and board Green, she was one of them. They were her strength.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
> Yes, it is intentionally left up to the reader whether that worked or not.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder about in-show Altean time slices that the Paladins have been getting into the habit of using.  
> — Tick(s) == Second(s)  
> — Dobosh(es) == Minute(s)  
> — Varga(s) == Hour(s)  
> — Quintant(s) == Day(s)  
> — Spicolian Movement(s) == Week(s)  
> — Decafeeb(s) == Decade(s)


End file.
